


Like Boom Boom Boom

by hermette



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, Painplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermette/pseuds/hermette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon says, "I want to see if I can come just from getting spanked."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Boom Boom Boom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunsetmog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/gifts).



> Written for Sunsetmog, and told to her in a series of emails. With love to lalejandra for the speedy beta.

It’s going on afternoon when Brendon stumbles into the bathroom in his pajamas. Spencer is already in there, fresh out of the shower and leaning over the sink, shaving his neck. Brendon presses a kiss to his bare shoulder, puts the toilet seat down, and sits down on it. "So,” he says. “Is now a good time to talk about spanking?"

Spencer laughs. "While I have a razor blade to my throat? Sure, B, go ahead."

Brendon says, "I want to see if I can come just from getting spanked."

There's pretty much nothing they haven't discussed between the two of them, be it sex or anything else, so Spencer isn't even fazed. He doesn't even look away from the mirror; he just drags his razor up his neck, cutting a stripe through the thick foam there, and says, "Empirical evidence suggests that yes, you can."

Brendon laughs. "No," he says. "Just from spanking, nothing else. No hands on my dick."

"Or mouths?"

"Right," Brendon says, and he has to shift a little because his dick is hardening a little, thinking about the time Spencer had knelt in front of him and choked on Brendon's dick while reaching around and slapping the absolute fuck out of the backs of his thighs. "No mouths, no hands. Just spanking."

Spencer hums. "What about your ass?"

"Um, spanking?" Brendon says, frowning.

"No," Spencer says, splashing water on his face and turning to grab a hand towel. He smells seriously good, all clean and fresh and Spencer-y. Brendon wonders why he's shaving and where he's going, and if Brendon can persuade him back to bed instead. "What about hands and mouths and dicks on your ass? Is that allowed or are we talking about straight up striking play?"

"Um," Brendon says. He can't look away from the soft, wet, damp skin of Spencer's throat. He thinks he should have formulated a better plan of attack. "I--"

"Bren," Spencer says. He wipes his face and turns from the mirror to face Brendon. "You know better than to come in here with half a plan, right? Don't come in here and walk me to the edge and then say 'Um.'"

"I--"

"Yeah," Spencer says. He walks over and squats down, closecloseclose, and rests his palms on Brendon's thighs. He rubs the tip of his nose down the bridge of Brendon's. "So why don't you decide what it is you want, and then tell me, and then of course you can have it."

Brendon swallows. He's pretty sure that one day, Spencer's... Spencerness will get at least marginally less effective. He's almost positive. "Right," he says. "Right, okay."

He thinks about it the entire time Spencer is gone. He sits in the bathroom and thinks about it and then he gets in the shower and brings himself right to the edge, fucking his fist and thinking about it, and then he goes to their toy box and takes an inventory and thinks about it and by the time Spencer is back, he's got his favorite cuffs (soft black ones with heavy D-rings and clips) laid out on Spencer's pillow. He goes down to the music room and waits for Spencer to come and find him.

"Hi," Spencer says softly, when he finds Brendon some time later. He's holding the cuffs in his hands and his cheek are flushed in a way that lets Brendon know he's not the only person who's been thinking about this all day.

"Hey," Brendon says.

"Did you decide?"

Brendon nods.

"You want to come upstairs and tell me?"

Brendon nods again, stands up, and shakily follows Spencer to their bedroom. Spencer sits down at the foot of the bed at pats the space beside him. Brendon crosses and sits down beside him, holding out one hand so that Spencer can fasten one of the cuffs around his wrist. Spencer takes the other wrist in his hand and rubs his thumb in slow, maddening circles over Brendon's pulse points. He smiles and says, "What do you want?"

"I want you to cuff my wrists together," Brendon says carefully. His tongue is too thick in his mouth and it's making it hard to get the words out. "I don't want you to tie me to anything, just cuff my wrists together."

"Okay," Spencer says. He's still rubbing his thumb over Brendon's skin, making him crazy. "What else?"

"I want you to kiss me."

Spencer leans over and presses a kiss to Brendon's cheek. "Here?"

Brendon's dick jerks. "My mouth," he says. "My neck."

Spencer drags his mouth down Brendon's cheek and presses a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. "What else?"

"I want you to kiss me and bite me and get me really fucking turned on."

Spencer's kiss curves up, his mouth pulling into a smile. "Doable."

"And then I want you to pull my pants down over my ass and spank me. I don't want you to finger me or fuck me or... or anything. I want to see if I can come from your hand."

"Hmm," Spencer says. He bites gently on the joint of Brendon's jaw. "No toys?"

"No toys. Just your hand."

Spencer draws back and sits up, fixes Brendon with that intense look that he has that, even now, makes Brendon shake. "All right," he says. "Give me your wrist."

Brendon drags in a breath and holds out his hand.

It isn't until after Spencer has both cuffs wrapped around Brendon's wrists and snapped together that Brendon realizes he's still wearing his shirt. He opens his mouth to say something about it, but then Spencer grabs the chain connecting Brendon's wrists and jerks him off the bed and Brendon stops thinking. It doesn't matter. Spencer will take care of it.

Spencer hauls him across the room and positions him in front of the full length mirror. "Look," Spencer murmurs, and Brendon does. They make a striking picture together, all dark hair and fading summer tans, freckles spread out of Spencer's cheeks, the stark black cuffs tight around Brendon's wrists. Brendon is hard already, just from this. "God, Brendon, look at yourself."

Brendon tries, but he can't focus on anything except Spencer behind him, head bent forward as he whispers into Brendon's ear, telling him how hot he looks, how fucking turned on Spencer is, how he had to sit through a stupid fucking meeting about their album cover art, like he gave a shit about that when Brendon was home, thinking about getting spanked.

"Spencer," Brendon gasps, letting his head drop back against Spencer's shoulder. "Spence, come on."

Spencer hums and rubs his dick against Brendon's ass. Their hips fit together so perfectly and Brendon wants to cry out, wants to call the whole thing off and beg Spencer to do it, to push him up against the wall and fuck him until neither of them can even see.

And then Spencer bites him, sinking his teeth into the curve where Brendon's neck becomes his shoulder. Brendon shouts and jerks forward, but Spencer has one arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him back, steadying him against his own chest.

"Don't go anywhere," he says. "I've only just started."

“Oh god,” Brendon gasps, head lolling back onto Spencer’s shoulder as Spencer bites kisses into his throat, his shoulders, everywhere he can reach. His hands are bound in front of his chest and every time Spencer moves Brendon’s head to get a better angle on his neck, Brendon catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. There’s something so familiar and so easy in the way they move together, and it’s making Brendon want to climb out of his skin. Every time Spencer moves to a different place to set his teeth, Brendon watches himself move before he’s even made the decision to do so, so that it’s like some elaborate, choreographed dance.

Fuck, Brendon’s dick is so hard for this.

“Please,” he blurts out, when he starts to feel like he’s going to die if something doesn’t happen. “I’m ready, Spence, I’m—fuck, I’m ready.”

He expects Spencer to haul him back over to the bed and push him down on it, but he doesn’t. He bites down one more time (hard, that one’s going to leave a bruise) and then somehow he folds himself over Brendon’s body and pushes him to the floor. They go down easily, Spencer holding Brendon’s weight against his chest, and Brendon has enough presence of mind to catch himself with his bound hands.

“I want you to watch,” Spencer whispers into Brendon’s ear. “I want you to watch me hurt you, and I want you to see how hot you look.”

“I—"

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, half to himself now. “I’m gonna fuck you up and you’re gonna watch, aren’t you? You’re gonna come all over yourself because of how good it feels."

A shiver runs up Brendon’s spine, and Spencer pulls his pants down over his ass and spanks it right out of him. He lands his first blow right on Brendon’s right ass cheek, hard and brutal. Brendon groans. That’s how it always is--Spencer comes at him from the right side first, because even though both of his arms are stupidly, stupidly strong, he still favors his right hand. Brendon can already tell he’s going to be sitting to the left for a day or two.

“Yeah,” Spencer says again. “Fuck, yeah, look at that.”

Brendon can’t really look at anything, but he can imagine. Spencer took pictures once, and Brendon had jerked off to them a dozen times, staring at the bright red blotches all over his pale ass, thinking about the sting in Spencer’s palm as he put them there.

“More,” Brendon gasps. “Come on, Spence.”

Spencer hits him again, not quite as hard this time, and then again. He moves to the left side and hits Brendon three times, a quick _pow pow pow_. Brendon jerks under the blows.

“That’s it, that’s so good, B,” Spencer says. He pauses and pushes Brendon’s shirt up his back. “You feeling it?”

“I’m—" Brendon tries, but then Spencer is dragging his nails down the skin of Brendon’s back, raising burning trails. “Ow, fuck,” Brendon gasps. “Fuck, Spence.”

Spencer draws back and lands a hard blow on the curve of Brendon’s ass. “Good?”

“Yes,” Brendon manages. His ass is stinging already, and every time Spencer strikes him, it just gets better. His dick is so hard between his thighs, it’s dripping onto the carpeted floor beneath them. His back is burning, and Brendon wishes Spencer would hit him there too, right on top of the scratches. ‘It’s good.”

He drops his head so that he can feel the stretch and pull of his back, but Spencer bites out, “No,” and grabs a fistful of Brendon’s hair and jerks his head back up. “I told you to watch.”

“Oh shit,” Brendon says, and he watches, glassy-eyed, as Spencer strips off his shirt and then goes back to laying into Brendon’s ass. He hits hard, not pulling his blows, and Brendon watches it all. He knows he’s supposed to be watching himself, but he can’t look away from Spencer. Fuck, Spencer. He looks wild. He’s sweating and panting from exertion, pink spreading down his neck and stretching across his chest, and it’s all because of Brendon.

Brendon chokes on the moan clawing its way out of his throat. He thinks, _Hurt me_ ; he thinks, _Mess me up._

“Can you come like this?” Spencer asks finally. He pauses, chest heaving. “B?”

“I don’t—" Brendon’s body is on fire. His shoulders hurt from bracing his weight and his knees hurt from kneeling so long, and his ass feels like the skin has been flayed off. It’s incredible. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t—"

Spencer gulps in a breath and drags a hand through his hair. “You’re bruising,” he says. Brendon drops his head and tries not to cry. Spencer doesn’t like to hit him once he starts to bruise.

“I can’t,” Brendon chokes out. “I can’t do it.” His chest aches and his ass, fuck, his ass. Spencer spreads one hand out over it and Brendon shoves back into the touch. He’s so close, but he can’t get there. He needs… something, he needs… “Spence, please.”

“Yeah,” Spencer breathes. “It’s all right, B, come on,” and then he’s leaning forward and breathing hotly over Brendon’s asshole. He reaches between Brendon’s thighs and wraps his hand around Brendon’s dick and gives him half a dozen firm strokes. He closes his mouth over Brendon’s asshole and pulls the flesh of it into his mouth hungrily, groaning into Brendon’s skin.

It sparks at the base of Brendon’s spine and races up his back, and he starts to come all over the floor. For endless moments, excruciating, white-hot pleasure slams through Brendon’s body. He arches up under the force of it, riding the crest of it, breath caught in his chest so that he can hover at the peak just for a second longer, just for two… It’s amazing and violent and perfect and everything, everything, everything.

All of Brendon’s breath leaves him and he sags forward, and then there’s nothing.

* * *

When he wakes, Brendon is splayed out on the bed like a starfish, completely naked and face down. He groans and tries to lift his head.

“Spence?”

“Right here,” Spencer says, climbing onto the bed. He’s wearing old sweatpants that have gone soft with washing, and they feel incredible when they brush up against Brendon’s skin. “You okay?”

“Ugh,” Brendon grunts. “Fuck, my ass.”

Spencer laughs. “Fuck your ass indeed,” he says. “Come on, you need to sit up a bit and take some Advil.”

“Don’t wanna,” Brendon groans. He can’t possibly sit up. He doesn’t want to do anything except lie here on his stomach and push his face into every soft thing.

“Just long enough to take some Advil,” Spencer insists, pulling Brendon into a sitting position. Brendon skin pulls, going taut, and he hisses and arches up off the bed; his ass feels like the skin has been stripped off with sandpaper, holy fuck. “Then I’m going to put some aloe on your ass, because, Brendon, seriously, your _ass_.”

Brendon grins into the glass of water Spencer hands him. Fuck, every inch of his body is screaming at him. “Good?”

“Hot as fuck,” Spencer says. He takes the glass back and then helps Brendon roll back to his stomach. His hands are gentle and warm, and Brendon wants them everywhere. “Seriously hot as fuck.”

“Even though I didn’t come?”

Spencer hums and squirts the aloe (“Cold,” Brendon hisses, “Oh, fuck, cold cold cold.”) directly onto Brendon’s ass. “Even though. Besides, we can always try again.”

“Yeah?” Brendon turns his head and cracks one eye to peer up at Spencer’s face.

“Sure,” Spencer says easily. “We could do like, I don’t know. Watch some porn beforehand, or maybe I could put you in a cock cage for a couple of days, or—"

Brendon giggles and relaxes into the bed. Spencer’s hand is smoothing circles into his skin, and the room is quiet and cool around them, and they’ve got all the time in the world. He presses his face against Spencer’s thigh and breathes him in.


End file.
